


Climbing Rose, Silent Princess

by vifetoile



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Babies, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Happily Ever After, Hurt/Comfort, Iambic Pentameter, Lime, Love, Midwinter, Pining, Poetry, Political Marriage, my ongoing love affair with em dashes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 01:31:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17889008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vifetoile/pseuds/vifetoile
Summary: Their marriage bed was full of ghosts, at first. A poetry cycle in blank verse about Zelda and Link's marriage, where a marriage for optics turns into true love. One-shot.





	Climbing Rose, Silent Princess

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Legend of Zelda, but I admit I may have read too much Shakespeare. Poetry is fun, you guys!   
> Also there's an allusion to sexual relations, but nothing explicit. Enjoy!

0\.   
The myths of Hyrule ring again and o’er  
With tales of princesses and heroes bold  
Who wedded when the Quest was done—of course.  
If otherwise, no single story told.   
1.  
When finally the two were left alone,   
The marriage bells had fade-echoed away,  
The crowds had gone to whereabouts unknown,  
To drink and sing and welcome the new day.  
At last within the silence, sweet and dark,   
The two of them collapsed upon the bed,  
Exhausted from the dancing and the smiling,  
And Zelda had a pounding in her head.   
She wouldn’t look across at Link, at first.  
What if his eyes were apathetic blue?   
Or else he pitied her, his duty done,  
Thought, You’re not what I want, but hey, you’ll do.  
And then a shock. His hand took hers with care,  
As if to say, I’m happy that you’re there.  
2.  
She knows he does not love her in return,  
At least, not in her way, the kind of love  
That overturns the soul, the kind of love  
Like roses burning, sure and sweet and bright.  
His love for her is more than anything  
She’s ever known: he knows all of her flaws,  
His ears are apt for all she has to say,  
Be it so boring or all science-bound.  
And he admires her as should a friend,  
With warmth, a steady hand, a ready grin—  
It is enough to build a marriage on.   
At least, she hopes.  
3.  
Assure the people that the peace was true,  
The princess back, the bad times at an end,  
These were the reasons that the two were wed,  
Not for their hearts, but Hyrule for to mend.  
From Lurelin to Tabantha and more  
The people strode and swam, they rolled and flew  
To see the diamond circlet on the brow  
Of Hylia reborn, the goddess new.   
And as the folk went home, they thought of roads—  
The Sheikah thought of waystations and maps,  
The Gorons thought of stone and of repair.   
The Rito talked again of message-routes,  
A postal service, crisscrossing the air.  
Each township took a banner home with them  
A sky-blue promise of the days to come.  
And goddess statues all across the land  
Had offerings of strawberries and rum.  
And Zelda thought, ‘The first day’s work is done.’  
4.  
Their marriage bed was full of ghosts, at first.   
A night did not go by but Link could hear  
The footfalls of Daruk, a’keeping watch—  
But he was gone, his soul should be at peace,  
And yet. A glimpse of whiskey in the sun  
Turned into Mipha’s eyes, all golden-sweet.  
And Zelda could not see a thunderstorm  
But hear Urbosa laughing in the air,  
The crack and boom of lighting by her hand.  
One summer night, a swelter, Zelda woke  
At midnight, laughing out Revali’s name.   
She woke Link up with weeping, whisper-said  
She’d dreamt of flight, forgotten he was dead.  
The blows of nightmares, memories, and worse;  
Their marriage bed was full of ghosts, at first.  
5.  
Carnality. She reached for him in bed  
And kissed him hungrily, a woman starved.  
Her prisonment, a century awake  
Yet petrified, came back to her in sleep—  
She would obliterate it, burn it out—  
In heat, sensation, sweat—she was alive—  
And he could help her prove it.  
To kiss and push, caress and grip and cry  
“Oh, fill me, fill me, Link, I need you now—“  
And afterwards, he held her.  
From thundering their hearts would slow to sleep  
And she would wonder. Did Link long for her—  
Or vanished Mipha, ruddy as a rose?  
Would she conceive a babe (what if she couldn’t?)   
What parents would they be—and then, what if—  
Ah, fuck it. Sleep for now. She lay and breathed   
And gradually slept…  
6.  
They did not live in Hyrule Castle town,   
Still barren, still a wreck. In Hyrule Field   
A village grew around a steady spring,   
The fountain square sufficed, most days,   
For royal business Zelda could attend.  
At sunset they’d go home, a little house  
Of stone, with climbing roses alongside.   
Most evenings you’d find Link beside the hearth  
Or in the kitchen, testing a new dish.  
And Zelda wasn’t far, with all her books  
And notes—and yes, a kitten on her lap.  
Three cats, two dogs, a clamorous affair.   
It wasn’t til the winter that they came  
Reliably to sleep there, every night—  
There was no ending of the work to do  
To build, to reestablish, and to fight  
In every corner of the battered realm.   
7.  
And yet the work was not completely grim.  
Hateno held a winter rite of old,  
Almost forgotten, memory slow and cold:   
When nights were at their longest, people came  
Into the apple orchard ‘neath the hill.  
And there to light a bonfire and sing  
Of apples blooming, growing, cooking up.  
They poured out cider on the twisted roots  
To toast the trees, and liven up the sap.   
And Link became (to his surprise) Emcee,   
And led the dancing, toasting, tambourine—  
Why not? He knew the way things should be done,  
He brewed his cider with a wild tang,  
And he could dance all night! Or so he thought.   
Before forty-eight hours had elapsed  
A dreadful cold had hold of him. Ah-choo!  
8.  
Asweat with fever, Link passed into dream  
Of what his life had been, before the shrine   
Of Resurrection, what he had become…  
A hundred years ago, remember now--  
His hand had found the darkness-sealing sword  
And gripped it like a vise.   
The sword had thrown all sideways what he knew—  
The Champion he was, Hero and Knight.  
A hundred years ago his mind had been  
Flat-hammered, red hot, like a sword in forge—  
A hundred years ago, his soul was struck,  
Battered, and melted, cooled into a mold.  
His mind was stripped, an arrow for the bow,   
And unessential things were cut away  
To suit him, to his core, for one sole task:  
Protect the princess, save her, fight and kill—  
From this, it took a shock almost to death.  
It took a century’s sleep, forgetfulness  
To let him wake again to who he was—  
A quiet man who liked to laugh and cook—  
And now—and now—Zelda was at his side  
Kissing his knuckles, murmuring a prayer,  
And in his heart a wave of sunlight broke,  
He thought, When I wake up, she’ll be right there—  
And so he slept, a smile on his face.  
The fever turned, his wife knew he’d be well  
And breathed at ease again.   
9\.   
Link dreamed, recalled his mother, father gone  
A century now—why did it take so long  
Remembering? But now it all came back.  
His father’s home, an ancestral estate,   
Was bright and open: only love it lacked.   
His father was a knight of ancient stock,  
The family fortunes vanished long ago.  
A match was set up with the nouveau riche,  
The owners of the premier restaurants  
Of Castle Town—and that provided her,  
His mother, an embarrassment of jewels.  
The match conducted like a business deal—  
A title for an ample treasury.  
And so they wed, Azelma to Pierre,  
And not a pint of love between them both.  
Link had no siblings; by the time he showed  
A stunning promise of his skill at arms  
His parents were a matched indifferent set.  
Oh, likely both unhappy, but no right  
Had they to cast aside their son, a toy  
For others to clean up. He got his hugs  
From his instructors in the fighting arts,  
But their affection had a wary edge:  
The little boy was too good with a blade,  
He fought as one possessed. He felt their dread;  
He was apart, and lonely. Should he fear,  
Or should a nightmare wrack his little frame,  
There was no one that he could call for help.  
He dealt with things alone, and held his tongue,  
And when the Sword had claimed him as its own,  
He clammed up. If he spoke, it all would come  
A-pouring out, his fear, his dread, his dreams,  
And that would never do. He must be strong,  
And so he took a silence passing strange.   
10.  
When Link awoke, he knew three things at once:   
The day was late, and Zelda was not there,  
And he was almost starved. Their patches cat,  
Dubbed Farosh, had been keeping watch on him  
And now slunk out, as Link got hasty dressed.  
He wondered, where was Zelda? And, hold on—  
Some voices from the parlor. He went in,   
And stared. Arrayed around the roaring hearth  
Were guests from all the realm, exuberant  
And merry in their chatter. Sidon loomed  
And tried to teach Yunobo how to dance  
A hornpipe. At their right, watching the scene,   
Pikango painted in the window seat. By fireside  
Sat Riju, with a kitten on her lap  
(That would be Naydra, jellicle and smug)   
And her guard Buliara stood at ease.   
The princess was in fascinated talk  
With fledgling Tulin—clearly making friends.   
His parents stood behind. While Teba seemed  
Stiff and uneasy (his feathers ruffled some)   
His wife, Saki, was sometimes teasing him  
But mostly spoke with Zelda. She stood there  
Wearing a daisy apron, with her hair  
A frazzled braid, and round her feet their cat  
Named Dinraal twined, demanding pets.   
A tired, laughing Princess-Queen was she.  
And in Link’s eyes the room was filled with light  
And harmony, his heart did skip a beat—  
Had spring arrived already? No, it was  
As if a seed planted a century past  
At last did blossom richly in his sight.   
He crossed to her, and took her in his arms  
Where she, after surprise, relaxed a bit.   
“You’re well, you’re up! You must be hungry now,”   
She said to him. He gave a sheepish smile   
And their guests gathered round, all clamoring  
To let him know they’d missed him, and come by  
To see if he was well—and they brought gifts.   
11\.   
Prince Sidon, with a flourish and a bow  
Presented Zelda with three Sanké carp,   
Fresh caught that morning, for a hostess gift.  
A basket full of voltfruit, closely wrapped  
Came next, from Riju. She shyly explained,  
“My mother cooked this when I had a cold—  
I wrote the recipe here, on a card.”   
Yunobo had some Goron spice, fresh ground--  
He said he liked it on a sirloin roast  
Of rock and minerals. Link thanked him well.  
Teba and Saki had a covered dish,   
And Tulin, very eager, chirped that they   
Presented gourmet nutcakes, with a sauce  
Of berry coulis, and some clotted cream.   
They each remembered how he liked to eat—  
He would have blushed, but couldn’t stop his grin.   
And finally, Pikango stood before  
The married couple, and presented them  
A painting in a big, watertight bag.   
Unwrapped, it showed an abstract map of all  
The lands of Hyrule, somewhat stylized  
In vibrant color laid. And Zelda knelt  
To see the details, sputtering her thanks—  
“We’ll hang it where we’ll see it every day.”   
“A modest effort,” Pikango just shrugged  
But he looked pleased. Link said, thoughtfully,  
“The fish, and fruit, and spice, can make a meal  
To feed us all—we’ve lots of rice in here—  
What do you say?” He looked to Zelda.   
She loved the thought, and Link set right to work,  
Munching on apples to keep up his verve.  
12\.   
Around midnight the guests were gone away,  
With thanks and promises to call again.  
The Rito family flew into the stars.  
Sidon announced he’d run, so he’d stay warm,  
Until he reached the river. Yunobo  
Rolled off, towards Death Mountain and away.  
Riju and her guard had acquired rooms  
At the town’s little inn. And Pikango?   
He strolled away into the chilly night,  
And waved, and seemed certain he’d be all right.  
And then they were alone, the two of them,  
The married couple, once again at rest  
In quiet. Zelda fell into her chair  
And hadn’t pulled her blanket on her lap  
Before Link knelt before her, took her hands.  
She asked him what was wrong, he shook his head  
And said, “I should have told you long ago,  
I love you so much. Words are not my strength—  
How can I say—you are so dear to me.  
I did not see before, was not aware,  
Was not awake. I left you all alone.  
I’m sorry.” This was all a-stumbling said.   
He blushed and pressed her hands onto his cheeks.  
And she was stunned. Her joy was slow to wake—  
“Mipha?” she asked, and wished to take it back  
At once, but had to know—  
Link met her eyes and smiled, a bit sad.  
He said, “I loved her with a younger heart—  
And it was true, I miss her, but she’s gone.   
She’d want me to be happy. And I think  
I loved you then, but could not find the words  
Or understanding—but that’s in the past.  
Zelda, my wife, my dear, I give to you  
A rooted love, a love a bit grown-up.  
I cannot tell you all you mean to me—  
How glad I am that we are man and wife—  
But just give me the chance and you will see,  
I’ll prove it over years, with all my life.”   
And Zelda could not speak. Her eyes were full  
And brimming, and her smile overflowed  
With joy. She slid onto the floor with him  
And pulled him to a kiss, one slow and deep.  
She drew away, and looked him in the eye.  
“I love you.” There was power in her words  
And courage in her gaze. And were they wise?  
I cannot say.   
To take a century to know your heart  
Is maybe foolish, but they took the chance,  
The second chance they had, and held it close.  
They went to bed, and loved each other. Now  
Their homely light was holy, sanctified.   
They chose each other, love was conscious now  
And given, shared between a man and bride.   
It was a miracle; no other how.   
13.  
Let’s turn the page a year. The town has grown.  
By accident it even got a name:  
The travelers call it “Queenstown.” On this night,  
The winter singalongs are most robust  
Out in the streets, around the fountain. There  
By village heart, the climbing-roses home  
Does overflow with guests, and light, and sound.  
Let’s step inside. The year that’s gone is here,  
All seasons saved, if you know how to look.  
The springtime blooms are pressed in heavy books,  
The dyes of summer shine in woven rugs.   
Barrels of apples, and the cider jugs  
Are testament to autumn’s harvest days.  
And by the fireside, the couple sits—  
And in their arms, the best gift from the year:  
Their babies, born in late September time.   
Zelda is gloating over them; the three,   
She hopes, will never be alone  
As she was so alone, but rather they  
Will love each other, play, be sister-friends.  
They share the name of Zelda, each to each—  
As from their mum, and her mother before—  
But with a special designating name  
For everyday. The first, in Zelda’s arms,  
Is Nyssa, whose old fashioned Sheikah name  
Was gifted from Impa, her godmother.   
And then Daine, who’s sleeping—just for now—  
Named for a mage, a friend to wild things.  
And Link has Orfea close to his heart.  
She fought to live throughout her early days,  
And so he named her for a heroine  
Who ventured into Death and back again.   
His kisses her, and now she squirms and turns,  
She wants to be a part of everything.  
And Nyssa watches all with open eyes,  
And Daine, she kicks in dreams. Another coo  
Comes up from Sidon, sitting close at hand.  
You’d think he never saw a babe before,  
He’s so enraptured by the little dears.  
Zelda adjusts herself, and looks around.   
Three baby girls are taxing, to be sure,  
But they’ve got aunties all across the land—  
And uncles, too, as Sidon would insist.  
There’s help from Queenstown, and then after all,  
They have each other, Link and Zelda, now,  
Their hearts are open, in each other’s hands.  
Tonight, their guests are bustling all around—  
The mother shall not move a muscle, no,  
Not even as a hostess. So she sits,  
And takes in all the chatter of the guests  
There’s so much light. And later there will be  
The silence, sweet and dark, at least a bit.   
Beneath it all, the woman-queen-and-wife,  
She hums a lullaby from long ago.  
As Teba, with his wife, prepared to sing  
A winter love duet, and Yunobo   
Brought out more punch for Impa and for Link;  
As Riju took Nyssa, most gingerly,  
Then Link did slip his hand into his wife’s.  
She turned, their eyes did meet, and they were close—  
Just for a breath, a moment—but enough.  
Outside the walls, the wild grew away,  
The healing, sleeping winter carried on,  
And let it be this way for all the knights  
And princesses, and souls that lose and find.   
Amen.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, my only regret is that I didn't find a way to work in "Well excuuuuuse me, princess" somewhere in there.


End file.
